Synergy
by SpiroTiger.x
Summary: Oh great. Trapped helpless in the dark; again. Waiting to be saved by Scott; again. Just great.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello everyone. This popped into my head at work, and it was so frustrating thinking this through but not being able to put pen to paper, that I wrote it as soon as I got home. I will still work on Windows (I'm about to have a long break from work so will have much more time, that's the plan anyway) but I think having a couple of stories on the go will hopefully mean I don't get bored and stagnant in one.

It's a crossover, which is new to me, but the two tales seem to slot so well together. I don't think it really matters what Season of Supernatural this is set in, but it's after Season 3 of Teen Wolf.

XXX

It's warm and still dark when I wake up. The heat is the first thing that I really notice. I notice it because it's a bit strange, I'm used to waking up having tossed my bedclothes into the floor during the night.

My dad says I used to sleep like a log when I was young. He'd turn out the light and I'd be off, and when he or Mom came in the next morning I'd be in exactly the same position, even if it was an uncomfortable one. He still takes great pleasure in regularly bringing up how I once slept upside down on a plane, and the cabin staff eventually asked him to check I was still breathing.

But it's not been like that for a couple of years, I sleep in fits and starts now. I think it's my Meds. I'm more able to focus during the day sure, but I guess the energy has to go somewhere. So I twitch and twist, roll and fidget my way through the night. It's rare that I actually wake up unless I've knocked something over (which happens shockingly often), but I'll often come to for a couple of seconds, turn over and drift off again.

It's good that it's dark, means there's at least three hours til school starts; that's two and a half til I leave the house, and two until I have to leave my lovely warm bed. I twist over, totally prepared to to sleep for another couple of hours, and bring my hand up to rub at an itch on my nose. I'm already starting to drop off again, but my happy 'I don't have to get up yet' feeling is ruined as a realise my hands are stuck behind my back.

I open my eyes properly this time, and realise it's not just dark, it's pitch black. I can't see the flood light from out my window, I can't see the orange charging glow from my laptop, I can't see anything. I move my head about, trying to get my bearings. I try to move my hands again; I want to run them through my hair as is my habit when I'm nervous, but they're still locked behind my back.

I start to call for my Dad, and realise to my horror that I can't draw in breath. Oh God, there's something over my face, stopping me from breathing.

No, no, no, no, no. Not this again. I won. We fought and I beat him at his own game. I beat him, so why am I covered in cloth? Why is there course fabric against my cheek? I can feel the panic just starting to set in, and I try to hold it together. Why is he back? How is this happening again? It's just like before.

But it's not. I realise it with a flood of relief, it's not the same. Yes, there's fabric against my cheek, but not wrapped fully round my head. I may not be able to move my arms, but I can move my fingers and they are skin; no wrappings there. No I can't call out, but I can breath. There is air reaching my lungs, but it's through my nose. That's it then, there's something covering my mouth; not my whole face, just my mouth.

I fact my whole mouth feels off, kinda dry. I move my tongue about and realise what's happened. Fabric in my mouth and duct tape over the top. Oh great. Trapped helpless in the dark, again. Waiting to be saved by Scott, again.

I thump my head against the floor. It doesn't help; it only makes my head sore.

I realise that I'm starting to get stiff. My shoulders are pulled back tight, arms held together at wrist and elbow. I realise quickly there's no hope of getting any relief from the tension. I can't see what holding them in place (obviously, they're behind my back) but my best guess would be zip ties. And my best guesses are usually pretty spot on. Especially now that my brain has started to wake up.

I start to shift about, trying to get more comfortable and find to my horror that I can't even straighten my legs. There's not enough room. I swing my left leg to the side; as far as I can, and feel my toes hit a wall. I do the same with my right leg, and although it doesn't reach nearly as far, and I manage to crack my knee on the wall, I am glad my legs are free to move independently. The walls feel like fabric, the same stuff that's under my head. Kinda fuzzy, like really short carpet.

Hang on, my toes? I'm not wearing any shoes? Or even socks? What I I wearing? Where was I before? All I remember is going to bed, just like normal. Dad came home from a late stint at the station, woke me up from where I'd fallen asleep on the couch, and I went to bed. That's it. I don't remember any panicked calls from Scott, nothing weird at all.

I can't see that I'm in my pyjamas, but I might well be, they certainly don't feel like jeans, anyway. I've managed to twist myself I've a bit now, and am actually fairly comfortable. Thirsty though. I wonder what time it is? It could be anytime for all I know, but it feels too hot to be night still.

God, you can tell my life is strange; I've woken up, tied and gagged in the pitch black, I don't know where I am, and I'm hardly even phased. I think my danger processing skills are slightly skewed. Still, I'm not in any real pain and I can't hear people outside ready to torture me, so as far as kidnapping goes, I'm gonna count this as a win.

I should be okay, assuming people notice I'm gone, and there's no doppelgänger this time, so Scott will notice when I don't turn up at school even if Dad sleeps in and doesn't realise I've missed breakfast, which he won't. We always eat breakfast together. It's the only meal we're both home for. One or other of us regularly misses dinner, so we sub in breakfast. Always have, ever since Mom died.

Then he'll call Scott, and Scott will call the pack, and they'll find me, I just have to hope they manage it before I have to pee.

XXX

AN: And there you go, a little shorter than I've written before, but hopefully enough to peak your interest. Let me know what you all think and if I should carry on.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.

AN: Hi all, glad people seem to be enjoying this.

Crystal, thanks for the review, I love to hear from you, and that's a good guess. Let's find out if you're right...!

And Jo, thanks for the support, that was awesome to hear you're enjoying it. The Winchesters arrive soon-ish, you'll have to wait a bit, but not too much longer.

Onwards!

XXX

Ok, so I've been in here hours, and I mean HOURS. The temperature is starting to drop, and I've gone through pins and needles into constant dull aches with occasional agonising stabbing pains in my arms. My legs are fairing a little better because I can move them slightly. But even they are stiff and achy when I do manage to shift them.

My mouth is still parched, but strangely it hasn't gotten much worse since I woke up. I think I must have been dozing on and off throughout the day, though I tried to hold it off. That's strange for me, I don't normally have a problem staying awake during the day. Maybe it's the heat. I'm starting to feel a little nauseous too, but I can't tell if it's from the heat or what.

I've also now got this really annoying little tickle at the back of my throat. It's a real pain, I can't drink to relieve it and it's nearly impossible to cough properly. All I've managed to do is give myself a sore throat.

I'm not worried or scared, or even in pain, not really, and like I said Scott will find me, I've just got to give him time. But boredom set in pretty quickly, and as I've clearly not had my Adderall today my mind is wandering, skipping from one thing to the next. I'm dying to talk, even with the Adderall I've never been very good in the quiet, so without my Meds the silence is killing me. And I'm starting to twitch, though that might be my legs falling asleep.

It was the heat that was the worst. I recon it must have been early morning when I woke, because the temperature; which was a little warm even then; sky rocketed after a couple of hours. I've been sweating buckets. I've tried to remember anything I know about dehydration, but it turns out I don't know a whole lot. Three days, that's the number that keeps popping into my head, three days without water and your a goner. Well I've not been stuck here that long but my mind is going foggy at an alarming rate, and I've been dozing off much more than I should. That can't be good.

I've been thinking, I must be in the trunk of a car. It's the only thing that fits completely. I thought through the options, anything to relieve the boredom. I even considered if I'd been buried alive at one point, but I don't think so, there would be so much fluctuation in temperature. A car trunk is the only thing that fits. Parked out in the open somewhere. I don't know where obviously.

I tried hammering on the wall with my heel and shouting through the duct tape at one point, but there hasn't been any noise at all from the outside world since I woke up. Not that I've heard anyway. All it did was use up energy, make me even hotter and give me a sore foot so I gave that up pretty quick. I have a new appreciation for all those 'dogs die in hot car' stickers that Scott's been trying to get me to put in my Jeep for months. I will Scott, you come find me soon, and I will put up any banner you want.

I'll admit, I'd have expected Scott to have found me by now, not that I'm angry, but the pressure on my bladder started a couple of hours ago, and now I really have to go.

What I wouldn't give for a toilet, or anywhere outside, let's face it I am boy, it won't be a problem, but I'm getting desperate and I really don't want to wet myself. Firstly I'll never live it down, Isaac will kindly bring it up every chance he gets, and secondly, the trunk smells stale enough as it is, I really don't want to add urine to the mix. My imagination isn't helping any, every other train of thought ends with waterfalls and dripping taps. Damn my over active brain.

I'm squirming now. It's not good, and it's not all the ADHD either.

Oh thank God. There's noise outside, they're here. They've arrived, and just in time too.

It's all muffled from in here, but I can hear two distinct voices which is a little surprising; I rather assumed Scott would get the whole pack to track me, maybe my Dad could only get Scott off school? I start to shout (or moan at least) and bang again, letting them know where I am. And it all goes silent outside.

Shit, what if it wasn't them? What if it was a dog walker and I've scared them off? Shit, shit, shit. Fuck! Come back! I'm thrashing harder again now, screaming out my frustrations.

But there's noise again from outside, a definite crunching as the sky becomes visible. It's bright obviously, and I twist my head to the left, screwing up my eyes against the light. I'm halfway though a sarcastic, 'about time' (muffled through the gag, but I recon Scott'll understand) when I look round and freeze.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

AN: Hi everyone. Thanks for the favourites, follows and reviews! Here is the next chapter, and yes the Winchester's finally put in an appearance.

Crystal, it's set between seasons 3 and 4 of Teen Wolf, after the Nogitsune, but before the Dead Pool business. In Supernatural, I hadn't really thought about it, I guess it's pretty early, before they met Werewolves as adults anyway, so ... season 1 or early season 2. Hope that helps.

XXX

It becomes apparent very quickly that it's not Scott and my Dad; nor is it dog walkers. There are two very real guns pointed at me, and believe me, I've grown up around guns, I can tell the difference between a real one and a fake.

I freeze automatically. I know I must look a state, tied up, in my pyjamas, and gagged. 'Rabbit-in-the-headlights Stiles' is what Scott always calls it. When there's something I'm not expecting, be it a teacher calling on me when I've not been listening or (apparently) two strangers pointing guns at my head. I can feel my eyes widen, and I start to shake my head rapidly back and forth. I've also tried to pull my hands in front of me, but the sharp pain makes me gasp behind the gag, and I cough slightly. One of them lowers his gun slightly, but the other doesn't.

The fabric behind the tape has slipped down my throat, and I'm actually starting to choke now. I can feel my stomach start to knot and I recognise the feeling well enough, I'm gonna throw up and then I'll choke on my own vomit. Fantastic. Tears come to my eyes unbidden as I desperately suck in air through my nose. I'm ignoring the men for now, I have bigger problems.

In an attempt to get the rag out of my throat, I've twisted and come to my knees. I'm vaguely aware that I was right, and I am in the boot of a car. For some reason this makes me feel smug, even as I'm choking, fighting back the urge to vomit.

The two men have moved away from me, though one still has his gun pointed vaguely my way. They seem to be arguing. I wretch once; nothing comes up, thank God, but neither does the rag. Maybe there's nothing to bring up, after all I haven't eaten or drunk anything for what I can only estimate is about 24 hours. My stomach muscles are aching now, one of the men has moved forwards. It's the one that lowered his gun, but I see a flash, and just know he's got a knife. I wretch again, and this time my body succeeds in it attempt, my throat is raw but clear once again.

I don't really register what I'm doing before I've sat up absolutely straight and have pushed myself back as far as I can.

He comes forward slowly, with both hands outstretched in front of him, but I don't recognise him. For all I know they could be the ones who shoved me in the trunk in the first place, back to finish me now they've realised I've a cop for a Dad. My eyes are flicking back and forth. They're both pretty young, and fit looking. I'd say closer to Derek's age than mine.

They could easily be wolves looking at them, and they've definitely got the whole danger vibe thing going on. That wouldn't explain the guns though, no wolves use guns as first line of defence.

Maybe hunters then, that don't like it when humans and wolves get along. But that doesn't fit either, pissed off hunters would have gone after Chris, not me, and he'd have definitely heard of a renegade pair in the area and warned us.

Shit, he's moved forwards and has grabbed my shoulder. I'm shoved, not too softly, back onto my front. It's pathetic that he's able to keep me still with one hand between my shoulder blades, but my body doesn't seem to be wanting to okay me right now.

I'm startled to find that I'm screaming and crying. That's not right, I've been kidnapped by psycho werewolves and murderous hunters. I've even been paralysed by an evil lizard dude and I've not broken down like this. It's not what I was expecting though, he's saying something. I'm too worked up to listen, and he's moved his hand from my shoulders to the back of my neck. His hands are warm. It shouldn't surprised me but it does, shouldn't evil killer people have cold hands?

I'm still crying, but I've stopped screaming now, one of his hands is rubbing my neck and as I turn my face towards him I can see him trying to open the scissors on a key-chain Swiss Army Knife.

Oh thank god, he's a good guy.

My arms are loosened at the elbow, but before he can get to my wrists, he's tossed backwards with a yell.

I struggle to my knees. Shit, it's Scott. He's gone all Alpha on us.

Shit, he's gonna kill them. The shorter one has his gun trained on Scott, they don't know that they can't stop him. He won't stop until he has me.

I try to call for him, but I'm muffled by the gag. The noise draws his attention, and I can see there's relief in his eyes, even though he's fully wolfed out. I try to call him, make him stop. I mean, they were helping me, I don't know why they have guns, but they must have their reasons. We can't talk, look at the arsenal Chris carries about on the average day. Guns, daggers, Japanese throwing stars, you name it, it's probably about his person. Damn it I'm off track again. My eyes have drifted, and my muscles are playing up.

The taller one staggers back to his feet, and the movement daws Scott's attention away from me.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Dunno. Kill it first, ask questions later." The other one replies, and he's reaching round to the small of his back with his left hand, right hand gun still trained on Scott, "Looks like some kinda animal hybrid, I vote we use the special rounds just in case."

Special? Oh no! No, no, no, no, no. They must have wolfsbane!

But it's too late, he's drawn a second weapon and shot before I even realise it's happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

AN: So here we go all, hope you like. To Crystal and foxfire222, thanks so much for your reviews, they are wonderful to get. And to 'no one important' now thanks just not true, you're important to me, and I love that you like it.

XXX

I can't move, Scott's on the floor. I can see him still moving, twisting in agony. There's no blood though; no black pus, that's a small relief.

The shooter makes a move towards Scott, and I yell through my gag, telling him to piss off, that he's done enough damage. If I can get the bullet out he'll be fine. Deaton's done it before. I managed to watch most of it before I passed out. But I'll do it, I can do it. If it's for Scott, of course I'll do it. I have time, it takes a while for the poison to spread enough to do any real damage. If I can just get the bullet out he'll be fine.

The taller man is coming back towards me, I'm vaguely aware how he's walking stiffly, where Scott threw him across the road. I know there should be fear now, I mean they just shot my best friend, but instead I'm filled with an all consuming rage. I start to scream again, writhing, still sat in the trunk, I need to get loose. I need him to free me. I look at him, urging him to hurry. He rips the tape away from my mouth.

"Take out the bullet. I have to take out the bullet. Scott, you okay buddy? I'm coming." I'd already started to swing my feet over the sides of the trunk.

"What? You know that thing?"

"That thing is my best friend! Now either take out the bullet or let me me do it. I'll take it out."

"Fine kid, you go ahead, but that's not your best friend anymore. Dean, kid knows it, wants to say goodbye." And he made short work of the last zip tie.

The other one, Dean, glances towards us; he sighs, "It's not dead yet, you can say your goodbyes in a minute. I'll make it quick."

"NO!" I rush forwards, my legs totally unable to support me, but luckily an inelegant stumble to land on my knees next to Scott was what I was aiming for. My momentum shoves the guy crouched over Scott away. He stumbles backwards, but as far as I'm concerned it's still not far enough. I don't trust that guy not to try and shoot him again, hopefully he wouldn't with me in the way.

"Scott, hey buddy. I need you to calm down. They wanna shoot you again, they need to see you can control yourself. I'm fine. You found me." There's no sign he's heard me. He's still writhing around trying to get to his feet, heading towards 'Dean'.

"Look at me!" Nothing. There's only one thing I can think of doing.

I punch him; hard. Like I did that time with Derek; it worked a treat then too. It shocks him enough that he looks at me. I can see him again. Not the wolf, not the Alpha. It's Scott, and he sees me.

"Stiles?"

I know I'm crying again, "Yeah, it's me. You found me. Where's the bullet Scott? We need to take out the bullet. I think it might be wolfsbane."

He's fading back to himself from his alpha state, "Dunno. I can hardly move Stiles, and it really hurts." I let out a sigh.

"Okay, well we need to get it out. Maybe that'll help." I've ripped his shirt now, and I can see the very obvious bullet hole.

There's a voice behind me, "Shit, he's right. It's human again, and it's a kid. Dean, clear a space next to the Impala, we've gotta get the bullet out. Come on kid, move out the way. We can help." I don't know what to do. I know I can't help him on my own, I can try but I won't succeed; but these guys shot him. I don't know if I can trust them. I don't want to have to.

"No Sam it's not a harmless kid. We kill it, you know the rules. You can't keep doing this, not every kid is under your protection."

"Well this one is. We help this one. It was looking for it's friend, who was tied up in the boot of a car, left for dead. I'd be pissed too. We give this one the benefit of the doubt. At least for now."

"I don't care, it's a demon."

I've had enough of this, "He's not an it! And you don't shoot him, either help me or piss off." They both turn to stare at me. I think they'd forgotten I was even here.

It was a voice I'd heard both Dad and Scott use; a 'do it or else' voice. I didn't think I had it in me. I was more surprised than anyone when the guy, Dean, sighed and then nodded before pushing me to the side to pick Scott up.

I have no idea who these guys are, but they're like nothing I've ever seen before. Their car is kitted out like a cross between Chris' store room and Deaton's clinic. Scott's already on the floor by the Impala's trunk and the taller man, Sam, is cutting his shirt the rest of the way open, with the same type of scissors that I know Melissa has from work. Scott's gritting his teeth already. It might not be wolfsbane, I'm still not clear on that, but I know it must hurt like a bitch either way.

I try to keep watching, really I do, but the bullet's broken inside him and they're having to dig it out. I was feeling pretty faint before, and that didn't help. The shorter one, Dean, is doing most of the work, and the other helping out when needed.

Now that the urgency seems for the most part over, my day (and night) catches up to me. I'm tired and sore, and really have to pee. I excuse myself too the edge of the wood. It's a pretty standard road looking at it, we could be anywhere in the county. There's no sign of life in either direction. Just two cars; an old Impala which is their car, and a very ordinary looking red Ford which I was trapped inside of. I'm a little disappointed that it's not more of a baddies car if I'm honest.

I start to wander over back over to the Impala; while the Ford may not scream evil, I'll still keep my distance I think. The tall one, Sam, is watching me and therefore sees me stumble, shivering in the growing darkness.

He shrugs off his jacket; it's tatty, but clean and I put it on willingly, "So what's the story kid? I've seen a lot of stuff but I've never anything like this."

"I'm actually not too sure, I was asleep, and then I woke up in the trunk. I...I've been there all day, I think. Scott's my Alpha, he thought you were hurting me. I don't really know what's happened, or where the rest of the pack are." I don't know why I'm saying this. I shouldn't just be blurting all this out. I guess the day is catching up with me, I'm feeling less steady by the second, "I thought they'd be here, they should be here."

I stumble again, but Sam catches me. "You better sit down kid. You don't look too well."

He's led me over to the back passenger door of the Impala, and pushes me down, catching my head gently to make sure I don't hit it on the sill. I remember wondering briefly if he'd ever been a cop, or had just been arrested that many times.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

AN: Hi all, well here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy! I'm still keeping the chapters kinda short to try and keep the updates coming.

XXX

I'm still sat in the Impala, not quite asleep, but not far off, when a hand on my knee makes me jump. I open my eyes and smile when I can make out Scott in front of me. "Hey, you found me."

He breaks out into a grin. "Yeah. Of course. So...proper hug, man hug, or manly handshake?"

"Man hug." We move forwards and with much coughing and throat clearing, thump each other on the back. I look down at the floor, I'm wringing my hands. I nearly crack my knuckles, but I know that Scott doesn't like it. Honestly the guy's a werewolf, but one pop of a knuckle and he's squirming like a little girl. "Seriously though, thank you for coming for me."

"I'll always find you Stiles, you know that."

"Yeah. Thanks Scott." There's a pause, "Well, this is awkward."

We are relieved when the two men move towards us. The short one thumps Scott on the shoulder As I move to sit back down, "So, what on earth is up with you?"

"Um, werewolf."

"But I shot you with silver?"

"And it's not full moon." Sam adds moving to lean against the trunk.

"Hurts more than lead, but not enough to kill me apparently. Doesn't matter about the moon, we can do it anytime."

Sam turned to Dean, "You must have missed the heart Dean, you're getting sloppy, Dad'd have your head for a miss like that."

"And he'd have yours for letting a werewolf creep up on you and fling you across the road." Dean retorts, "And you," he continues turning towards me, "why didn't you break out of the trunk? Don't you have super wolfy powers too?"

I rolled my eyes and gave a sarcastic little wave, "Not a wolf; human. Hi. And what are you guys, hunters? Are you looking for Chris?"

"Kinda I guess. We're sorta freelance, I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam. And I don't know any Chris, well not in California anyhow."

Sam interrupted here, "Yeah, we heard a rumour about missing people? Cars abandoned on the side of the road, that's why we stopped when we saw the Ford. And there was something about an evil fox? I guess the story is partly right?" He was looking over at Dean with a frown.

I'm looking resolutely at the ground at this point, so Scott says what needs to be said, "Oh no, there was an evil fox demon here, but we dealt with it. It's all clear now."

Sam moves forward, reaching past me to bring out a laptop from the back of the Impala. Looking across I see the car is strewn with papers; highlighted and cut out and stapled together. It's like looking at my own wall at home. I think we could be great friends this Sam and I. While he's firing up the computer he asks, "Right, so how did you kill it? I guess you had to behead it?"

Well, maybe not great friends. Casual acquaintances perhaps, I think I might throw up.

Scott's looking at me, it's usually left to me on how much people outside the pack are told, "Uh, no. Nothing that extreme. I'm still here. We don't kill our friends if there a way around it."

"Wait, you? You're the demon?"

"No, it possessed me, then it duplicated me, then we managed to trap it."

Dean and Sam respond simultaneously with, "So it's still alive." and "How did you manage to trap it?" respectively.

"Technically yes, still alive but securely hidden. Pretty sure you can't actually kill it, and we used a Nematon box."

"And the cars? Are there actually missing people too? Or is it just people abandoning brand new cars with teenagers trapped in the trunk?"

"I don't know," I look over towards Scott, "Dad hasn't said anything."

Scott's eyes go round, "Shit your Dad, I haven't called him yet. He's with Derek, there were a load of trails all leading in different directions. We had to split up."

He's already pulling out a phone, which he tosses my way. I catch it on auto pilot, shocked that my hand eye co-ordination manages it - Coach would be proud, and realise it's mine. Scott's dialling on his own phone that he's fished out of his jeans.

I shut my eyes, I'm tired again. My day has finally caught up with me. I feel Scott shove me over into the middle of the back seat and slide in next to me. There's a rumble that I realise must be the Impala starting up. I have a vague impression of being periodically poked and force to take sips of some sort of sweet drink, but I don't remember much of the journey.

I vaguely hope that I'm at least headed home. I can feel Scott breathing next to me and it calms me enough to fall into a restful sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

AN: Hi all, here is the newest chapter, hope you all enjoy. This is a little filler I'll admit, but a bit of fluff never hurt anyone!

Crystal - not sure about Bobby, he might be mentioned in passing, but I have no plans to include him as a main character at the moment but it'll depend how it develops. I might have him as an old friend of Deaton's as well as the Winchester's. Hum, ideas are percolating.

XXX

When I wake up the sun is starting to shine again, and I'm surprised to find that we're still driving. I can actively recognise where we are now though, and it's not too far from home. Scott's still next to me, leaning heavily against the window, snorting and snuffling, but not actually snoring. The two men are up front, one driving, and the other has a book of maps open over his lap, I guess he's directing.

I shut my eyes again, and am surprised to notice that my lullaby is actually heavy metal, but turned right down. I don't think I'll actually manage to sleep again. But the rest is nice.

But now I'm awake, and I've missed one dose of Adderall and I'm about to miss another and my mind is fidgeting. I'm thirsty again, so I sigh softly before opening my eyes for good. Scott's grasping a bottle of Mountain Dew Code Red, I sneer at that. I'm not a fan of the sickly sweet drink, but I guess beggars can't be choosers. I reach over and make a grab for the bottle. Scott's not letting go though, that's awkward. I tug at the bottle and hear myself whine slightly, I guess the pack is rubbing off on me.

For a wolf, with wolf reflexes and wolf hearing, Scott sleeps like the dead. There's only a very few things that'll get him up. I've had this issue before; how Melissa ever managed to wake him up for school on time I'll never know.

A noise towards the front of the car brings my attention forward, and I find the taller guy looking back at me. Um, something with 'S', Stuart? Steve? No that's not right, come on Stiles ... Sam. That's the one.

Anyway, he's looking back at me and smiling, "Wake up Wolfman, your friend wants a drink." Scott doesn't move. Mmm, Wolfman, I like that. Scott, I re-christen you Wolfman, I don't think Melissa will mind.

"That won't work, I've seen him sleep though a drenching with ice water."

"Okay, well I've got a bottle of water round here somewhere." I laugh at that, and he replies sarcastically, "For you to drink, not pour over the poor guy's head." He's ferreting about in the foot well.

"Why not? It would be much more entertaining to drench him. Don't worry about it, I want his drink now, it's like forbidden fruit." I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, "His Mum stumbled upon this little trick one day by accident. I was round once when she did it, and I borrowed it for the future."

Dean's slowed the car down, I guess he doesn't want to crash if Scott makes any sudden movements, Sam sees what I'm doing and turns down the music. They fight over the control, and I realise they must be brothers. Scott's the only one that would dare touch the tape deck in the Jeep (yes, I still use tapes, even though I have one of those phone to tape converter things, because tapes are awesome), and he's the only one that I'd have thumb wars with over the control.

I flick though my playlists until I find the song labelled 'wakey wakey' and hit play. The sound of a siren fills the car and Scott immediately opens his eyes. Not really conscious yet but getting there.

"So he's had a couple of run ins with the cops?"

"A few, but not in a bad way. My Dad's the Sheriff and he's in on the whole werewolf thing, so I don't know where the siren-wake up thing comes from. We've got the whole town basically covered, like I said my Dad's Sheriff, his Mom works at the hospital. We even have the vet in the pack."

"It's from when we were kids," Scott interrupts, "Just after your Mom died, when you used to come round to mine late on Friday so your Dad could work the midnight shift. He used to always be late, so he'd put on the siren to get to mine quicker. I guess I link the noise to you coming to visit."

I didn't know that. Awe, that's actually really sweet, and far too sentimental to make a big thing of with two strangers watching, so I make an inappropriately loud squealing noise, while using the fact that Scott's had to block his ears to grab the bottle of drink, "And it's mine! I win!"


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

AN: Here we go, next chapter is up. Sorry about the delay everybody, I've been moving house, and getting ready for extended travel. I go tomorrow, eek, getting close! Hopefully I'll have fairly regular internet, but if not, updates might be a bit as and when.

Onwards!

XXX

My Dad's patrol car is on the drive, with Derek's Camaro in the street. Scott's left the door open, and I'm just taking in the familiar vision of my house. Dad's come to the door, and I suddenly need to hug him, like now.

I don't know when I started to tear up, but he's sheltering me from the world. Keeping me safe, just like he did when I was little. Just like he has ever since Mom died. His arms are safe, and I can collapse into his smell.

He's ushering me in, not taking his arm from round my shoulder, as if afraid I'll disappear again. I'm not complaining, I love the fact that he cares this much.

Everyone is here, even Deaton, sat waiting in the lounge. Waiting for me, I've never felt more cared about. Melissa is first to rush over, I get a brief but heart felt hug, and then she's looking me over with her nurse's eye. She sits me down, checking my pulse as she does. She almost immediately starts barking orders at the wolves. People think I'm a momma bear around these guys, but I don't hold a candle to Melissa. Isaac's running up to my room to fetch a blanket, Lydia has been sent to the kitchen for food and warm drinks, I'm only sort of surprised she didn't complain that was servant's work.

Relief that everyone is really okay leaves me drained. Sure, Scott had said I was the only one missing but I hadn't really believed it until just now. I'm starting to relax into Melissa's mothering when I hear a growl. Derek's squaring up against Dean and Sam, careful not to transform. I guess he still isn't sure what they know.

Sam's got his hands spread out in front of him. A recognisable human peace display, but he's looking Derek straight in the eye fighting for dominance that way, and Dean's hand has crept round to his back, where I just know he has a hidden holster. Unfortunately for them both, the wolves are a little close to the surface, not only because of worry for me but it's also getting to that time of the month, if you know what I mean.

Even Scott's eyes are starting to glow a little, Isaac is back downstairs and has wrapped me snugly in a blanket, before moving to stand behind Derek, also growling at the strangers.

"Guys, cool it, before I douse you with water. They're fine. They're the ones that found me and they drove Scott and me home." Apparently my ordeal has made me short tempered, who'd have thought.

Lydia comes back into the lounge at this point, and after taking a second to survey the room, I see a wicked grin spread over her face at the sight of Dean and Sam. I'm not sure who she has her eye on, but I feel sorry for them. She struts across the room, mugs in hand and pushes them on Isaac, who takes them seemingly on autopilot, before holding out her hand to Sam and introducing herself, "Hi, I'll introduce myself as no one is polite enough to share. I'm Lydia, Lydia Martin. And you are?"

Sam takes the proffered hand with a smug grin at his brother, "Sam." Lydia keeps smiling, but raises an eyebrow, waiting for a surname. It takes him a couple of seconds, but he gets there, "Oh, Winchester, Sam Winchester, like the gun." Poor thing, he's gone red. Trust Lydia.

I can't help but pity him slightly; while I no longer have the worlds most embarrassing crush on Lydia, I can understand where his smugness is coming from. She is absolutely stunning, but then I know that there a fair chunk of chaos thrown in there too and he has no idea what he's letting himself in for.

Dean doesn't like being ignored it would seem, and especially not by a pretty girl, and elbows his brother in the stomach before moving forwards, even as Sam is doubling over choking for breath, "And I'm Dean Winchester, his older and much more mature brother. He's a bit of a nerd I'm afraid, always got his head buried in a laptop."

Sam seems to have caught his breath now and is looking daggers at Dean, I'm still trying not to laugh at the whole thing, along with several other Pack members who know what Lydia's like.

"Oh we're all used to that, Stiles is our researcher, nothing that boy can't ferret out. So, who are you boys and how did you find our Stiles?" She's stalking around Dean as she talks.

Sam's got a frown on his face that I recognise, it's the same one I get when I'm trying to work something out. His frown evens out and he smiles, moving forwards he pats Dean on the back, "Careful lover boy, she's not all human."

Lydia looked affronted, "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"You've got a Lure, and that makes you some sort of fairy, or at least partly anyway. European from the looks of you, I'd guess from Irish descent judging by the hair." Sam had started mimicking her actions and was now stalking around her, obviously enjoying himself.

"As to what type of fairy. Now there are lots that have the Lure; mermaids, sirens, the Sidhe in all their various forms. I recon we're looking at a Sidhe, most likely a Leanan or a Bean Sidhe. As no one, other than my idiot brother," here Sam throws a disdainful glance towards Dean, who has moved past Lydia and is now leaning against the window sill next to Scott smirking, "Seems particularly love struck, I'll go for the Bean Sidhe. How do you think I'm doing Dean?"

"Not bad. Anything else?"

"I could keep on going."

The person to respond is surprising, Deaton stands, "Please do. They don't quite understand yet."

Sam pauses in his monologue looking at Deaton, he looks thoughtful for a second, but seems to decide it's okay to carry on. "Alright. Lydia Martin you said? Like is said, hair puts you Eurpean, Martin means it's most likely to be Ireland. I think you're probably defended from Eevul, famously linked to the O'Brien family in Ireland, though I'll have a hard job proving it. That makes you a modern day Wailing Woman, also known as a Banshee."

The whole room is staring at Sam; Lydia's actually standing there like a goldfish, jaw hanging open.

Dean leans towards Lydia and in a loud stage whisper, clearly meant for everyone to hear says, "Told you he was a nerd."

It's Isaac that reacts first, in a loud and offensive way that only a boy is capable of, "That's fantastic. I've never seen anyone floor Lydia quite like that before. Look at her, she's speechless. I love you guys."

And with that he walks forward, shoving Derek out of the way and throws his arms around Sam. It's funny, I've never really been that close to Isaac, not the way I am with Lydia, or even Liam, who I've known less time, but his actions are exactly what I would have done. There was too much tension in the room already, someone had to crack a joke, I'm glad someone can fill the space if I'm not feeling up to it.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

AN: It's official, I love travelling, it's awesome. Only been at it two weeks and already I'm happier than I have been in a long time!

It has meant that so far my internet is a little off and on, and my writing is limited to IPad which makes it a little harder and so my updates are going to be a little more random I think. I'll do my best to keep them coming fairly regularly though, especially as I'm still getting lovely reviews from all you good folks.

I particularly enjoy long rambling ones, so please feel free to carry on with those 'No One Important', and 'My Sweet Yaoi', that's it in a nutshell, but I'm gonna try for a few more twists and turns!

I'm also gonna do a quick recap on who I think is in the pack/room at this stage, just incase I miss anyone (if I do please let me know).

Wolves, we have Scott, Derek, Isaac, Liam and Peter.  
>Humans are Stiles, the Sheriff, Parrish, Melissa, Deaton, Lydia, Chris, Sam and Dean.<br>Were-coyote is Malia.  
>And the Kitsune is Kira.<p>

Also, having just re-read the last chapter I realised the Banshee history I used (the Eevul) which is real Irish mythology (a real myth, if that's not an oxymoron I don't know what is!) is linked to the O'Brien family, which is a nice coincidence!

XXX

It wasn't until I was handed a steaming mug of coffee that I realised just how cold I actually was. My dad had come to sit on my one side, arm still flung over my shoulder and now I'm leaning into his body heat. I know I should feel embarrassed to essentially be hugging my dad with all these people here but I'm not.

Melissa is crouched in front of me, still checking how I am. She's muttering about dehydration and hypothermia, but her tone isn't too worried, so I'm not too worried either. Her hands come up to my eyes and force them open from where they'd been drifting shut. She's magicked up a tiny torch from somewhere and is now flashing it to to my eyes. I thought they were only allowed to prod and poke like this in hospital; in fact I'm pretty sure last time I was in hospital I didn't even have as thorough check as she's subjecting me to now. Still, I guess it means she cares and I'll take that over disinterest any day.

I remember what some on the tests mean too; the torch one, that's for pupil dilation, to check for nerve damage. I guess it's sensible, I have been shut in the dark for hours. The skin pinch test is for dehydration though I don't know why she's testing for that, I'm bound to be dehydrated, even though I've nothing but drink since I got out of the trunk. I'm surprised I've not been running to and from the loo to be honest, but I guess my body knows more than I do.

Scott's fidgeting, obviously not content even with me back, I don't have to have superhuman skills to tell he's worried. One minute he's perched on the arm of the sofa next to me, then he's over by the door stopping Derek from wolfing out; then he's headed towards the kitchen to talk to Kira and Deaton, who are trying to make a meal that'll feed nine humans, five werewolves, a kitsune and a were-coyote. Good luck to them.

Now, I know what there was in our kitchen before I ... left? Was kidnapped? Let's go with left, and I can be absolutely sure that Dad won't have been shopping while I was gone, so I'm fairly sure that unless Deaton knows some sort of multiplication magic, they'll come up short.

Derek and Chris are still by the door, interrogating Dean and Sam, who are being terribly tight lipped now that they had shown off their supernatural knowledge. They seem nervous, I guess they've not been around a pack before, and I suppose it is awkward for an outsider, I mean we're basically the ultimate clique. I guess it's awkward that they're hunters too. I mean Chris wouldn't have stayed in the same room with a whole pack of unknown wolves at the beginning, to be honest I'm surprised they haven't freaked yet; maybe it's because the humans actually out number the wolves in this pack, that's gotta be pretty rare right?

I can see that Dean's right hand flickers every time one of the wolves growls; which is often. Now that everything is calm (however temporarily) Liam and Isaac have returned to their usual lacrosse argument which developed into practise, and has now devolved into a pile of arms and legs on the floor. Every few minutes Scott growls at them from the kitchen in a futile attempt to break it up. We all know it's harmless but I guess Sam and Dean don't.

Sam jumps and makes a sudden move toward me when Malia unsheathes her claws first time, squeals and jumps into my lap to show me. I have to fling out an arm to stop him shooting at her.

My dad leans over, "I think maybe Scott and I should have a word with those two before it all gets too much."

"Yeah, I think you might be right." I look between Sam and Dean and the kitchen, before calling out, "Scott? Oh mighty Alpha and leader of all, I think you might wanna come and calm some nerves out here."

Scott comes through to the lounge; there's a smudge on his face that looks like some sort of tomato sauce and flour in his hair, I have no idea what they're making, "What?"

Dad steps forwards, "I think that we should have a chat with Dean and Sam, we've left them rather in the dark up until now. Maybe Chris can help too?" He glances over to the hunter, "One hunter to another?"

Chris nods and moves away from the door, motioning Dean and Sam to follow him as he makes a move towards the dining table, which I notice now is covered with police files; maybe Dad does know something about the missing people and just didn't tell me.

Honestly, I don't know why he doesn't just tell me immediately when something comes up. Every crime in Beacon Hills seems to be related to us in some way.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Supernatural.

AN: Hello all, sorry that this is prob a bit dull coz we (as audience) already know who everyone is. I considered leaving it out, but felt like there needed to be real introductions between the Winchester's and the Pack, otherwise how will they know each other later in the story?!

XXX

As we all sit down around my little dining table, I'm strongly reminded of King Arthur and his round table. No one person more important or valuable than the next, there really are similarities. There are so many groups in this Pack: wolves and hunters, humans and druids, fay and kitsune. It must look strange from the outside. All equal with no real leader; sure Scott's the Alpha, but he's not really any more important than anyone else.

Everyone is looking to everyone else, no one seems keen to start. I guess I'll have to take the lead, "Right, so we'll go first. Um, God, where to start," I realise why no one was talking now, "Um, okay. From the beginning I guess. So Scott was bitten by Peter."

"He's in the other room." Scott adds.

"Yeah, maybe we need to do that first. So, Scott and me you know, wolf and human. Scott's the Alpha of the group. It used to be Peter, then it was Derek," I point to Derek who's leaning on the door frame, "then it was Scott. They're all wolves, the other wolves are Isaac and Liam. Derek turned Isaac last year and Scott turned Liam a couple of months ago."

I'm interrupted again, this time by my Dad, "Those are the two that are arguing in there."

"Yep, and then..."

I'm interrupted yet again, by Sam this time, I think it's gonna be one of those stop-start conversations, "Wait a second, I thought a wolf had to kill the old Alpha to become the next one. How come all three Alphas are still alive?"

Scott takes this one, "Well I'm a True Alpha, I've never killed anyone, I had a human pack before I had a wolf one and I guess I sorta upgraded from beta to alpha because of that. The other two are a little more complicated, Derek actually did steal Peter's power by killing him, but Lydia bought Peter back from the dead as a Beta. Derek lost his Spark when he healed his little sister. They're both Betas now."

"So you're a good werewolf?" Dean says disbelievingly, seemingly ignoring anything beyond Scott's part.

"Basically, yeah."

I cough loudly, everyone goes quiet and turns to look at me, "Thankyou! And then Peter bit Lydia, which turned her into a Banshee. Actually you guys have explained that to us, we've been wondering why she didn't turn. We thought she must be immune, which I guess is right, no one can be two things and she's already a fairy. God I'm gonna love rubbing that in, she's gonna hate being a fairy!"

"Technically she's a fay not a fairy, it's a small difference but it is there."

"Meh, tom-ay-to tom-ar-to."

Scott takes over here as I'm still laughing, "Kira's a Kitsune. That's genetics, her Mom is one too. Malia's a were-coyote, again genetics we think and that's all the shifters."

I point to Chris, "This is the Chris I mentioned before, we wondered if you knew each other but apparently not."

"I've heard of The Winchester's of course but we've never actually met, I'm Chris Argent." He held out his hand.

Dean looks excited by this and enthusiastically shakes the offered hand, "Argent? As in Silver? As in international werewolf hunters? As in Gerard Argent?" It's like he's met a rockstar. I think he might actually squeal like a girl.

"Yes, that'd be my family, although Gerard's dead now."

His smile fades, "Oh I'm sorry." I can tell it's an automatic reaction on Dean's part, he's still looking pretty excited, even through the slightly reduced grin.

"Don't be, we're the ones that killed him."

"Anyway!" I plough on, otherwise we'll never get through introductions, "That's the hunter. Me, Dad, Parrish and Melissa..."

"That's my Mom."

"Yes, that's Scott's Mom, are all human. And Deaton here is our Druid Emissary."

There's silence once we've finished with the introductions. I'm not sure how they'll take it. I mean they're hunters, it not their nature to just trust people, especially not shifters like a lot of us are. They're looking at each other, there's that silent communication thing going on.

It feels like an age before one of them finally speaks, "So Sammy, it looks like we've stumbled across the only harmless Werewolf pack in America."

Deaton answers for us all, "I feel we must clarify on that point. We are not harmless, neither the Wolves or their human counterparts. We are good, not harmless, there is a difference."


End file.
